As Much as Faith Would Allow
by 144 Resonant Foresight
Summary: The idea of Sanctum was forged in the minds of the most powerful races in the Galaxy. With the near extinction of their races, these godlike species found unity to be paramount. The Leviathans, the Precursors, and the Xel'Naga, they created the Sanctum to observe and protect when necessary. Little did they know they would actually be challenged... T for moderate violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**I certainly hope that you enjoy this I'm new sooo… on with it then. Oh and I do not own Starcraft, Halo, Mass Effect, or Dr. Who. They all belong to Blizzard, 343 Industries, EA, and BBC respectively.**

"This council will come to order!" Thraxen, a Xel'naga thundered across the row of beings. Seeming to have heard, the crowd before him became silent. Slowly, Thraxen began, "This matter of urgency has been~~"

"What is the meaning of this, we have not congregated for centuries, what is so beyond important that we must initiate a complete session?" Thraxen was interrupted by the imposing Leviathan councilor, Toranor, a skilled diplomat that held enormous power within the Sanctum.

"Calm your soul, Toranor." Myrael, a Precursor, chided." This could very well be the end of us." He looked calmly at the Leviathan he spoke against.

Toranor not accepting it, fired back, "Is the Precursor frightened? Still reeling from your quarrel with those Forerunners?" Myrael just buzzed his insect-like wings angrily.

"Let us not forget your defeat from those primitive machines!"

"Enough!" Thraxen interjected, he did not want this to devolve into petty conflict. "You bicker like the children we swore to protect, I did not summon you all here for trivial arguing, but to discuss a truly real threat." Nai Sel a younger more levelheaded Leviathan councilor inquired,

"There are thousands of threats out there, none we have not been able to dispel."

A Precursor councilor spoke up, "I agree with Nai Sel, please enlighten us as to what exactly you discovered."

Continuing, Thraxen said solemnly, "My fellow councilors, Leviathan, Precursor, and even my own Xel'Naga, this message has been broadcasted upon the psychic winds, quantum receivers, and even the derelict pulsar arrays." There was a metallic shrill that sounded eerily organic. It reverberated through the room with its endless mantra,

"EXTERMINATE…EXTERMINATE…EXTERMINATE." The voice sent pangs of distress in most of the councilors minds. Even the Xel'Naga councilors who have already heard the broadcast, cringed when it was played.

Toranor, his telepathy seeming to have lost its icy and assertive sheen, shakily said, "Can it be? Is that really they?"

Thraxen only confirmed his shock. "It is, and we are all that stands in the way of the total subjugation of the galaxies."

"And will we … survive?"

"We are our own salvation. We shall reconvene much more frequently, conference adjourned."


	2. Plan of Action

**Plan Of Action**

**Authors Note: I have my first review congratulations Kinunatzs! And I'll try to make the chapters a tad longer. Also expect a few "explanations" in this chapter. The real fun begins, but I need your input so review as much as you can!**

Thraxen decided that he would walk along that Sanctum Gardens. His councilor robes radiated a sort of power and respect. The gilded fabrics bent the light around him in a way that would enthrall the by passer. Crystals of pristine clarity were embossed along his waist, while archaic engravings laced the base of his throat. Thraxen however, was far too burdened by the events that have come to pass to be absolved in his attire. He gazed thoughtfully along the decorated garden scape and contemplated the distraught looks that were burned on the other councilors faces as they departed. As amusing as they were, the expressions were still worrying. The Sanctum was only there to coordinate the three species, a nexus of where cooperation and and consideration culminated to benefit them all. The races still remained unique and they are capable of being ... inscrutable in their motives. Each race was entitled to be suspicious of the other and who knows what they might try with this information. It was not the first time their existence was threatened, they may take extra precautions, one that they may choose to withhold.

"Thraxen!" Thraxen was snapped out of his reverie to see a Precursor councilor address him.

"Shielion, to what do I owe the honor?" Thraxen said warmly. Shielion was a good friend of his and one of the less obtrusive politicians. Like all Precursors she had her front legs locked into her digitigrade hind legs when not needing to assume a more stable footing, they still had arms though and that unique physiology gave them a tall and bi-pedal appearance. Her adornment was sharp and angular, reminiscent of her natural, lightly armored form. Her insect-like wings were folded along her back.

"Thraxen is it really them? the Kaled cyborgs?"

"It is, and I share your concern." Shielion took a seat by Thraxen.

"You know we are not ready, are forces are far from the numbers and firepower of the Gallifreyans, and yet we know what happened to them."

Thraxen vaguely remembered that day. The day when the Timelords were wiped from existence, when one of them employed an astounding weapon of mass destruction perpetrated on a galactic scale. "Rumor has it, that the one Gallifreyan who initiated the genocide is still alive."

Shielion just shook her head, "That's just a myth and you know it Thraxren. A myth not so easily dissuaded by those desperate enough to believe it, and I doubt that the council will chase a legend."

Thraxen merely shrugged. "I worry for our council, desperation is a powerful tool, how the councilors wield it I will not know."

The Precursor scoffed," You shouldn't dwell on such things, the council is so caught up in there meaningless political dogma that I doubt they would notice."

If Thraxen was not an overburdened councilor belonging to a species with no mouth the he would be trying his hardest not to laugh. " On that we can agree on, but we can perhaps ask for further guidance."

Shielion was interested now, "What do you have in mind?"

"The presence of the Exemplars in the next conference." Thraxen said simply. Shielion just stared at him dumbly. The Exemplars were legends, the best Sanctum had to offer. They were each chosen for their incredible acts of leadership and cunning. And as befitting of their age and wisdom they were some of the most powerful psychics to ever grace the Sanctum halls. They were the very vessel of veneration whose mere mention can renew the zeal of any combatant or civilian. The Exemplar Primus is the most revered of them all, over a billion years old, he is capable of imploding a star with a single thought.

"W-why them? All at once."

Thraxen replied to the Precursor in a way that only created more questions, "We will need their guidance." Shielion wasn't having it. How will he gain their support? What will they discuss? I'm going to meet an Exemplar! Shielion threw away that last thought.

"Their wisdom and power is only so much we still don't have the forces to repel the Daleks."

"That's where you are wrong, young councilor." Thraxen inwardly smiled. "For I propose the merging of the Milky Way galaxy."

Shielion is beginning to be more frustrated rather than intrigued. "What good will that do!" Millenia ago when the Sanctum was constructed, the Sanctum species layered one particular galaxy, the Milky Way. Everything was different the constellations, planets, and the species living there. It was still the same galaxy however, but copied across three artificial dimensions. The species of one galaxy would be completely unaware of the other. Why this was done is hardly known, all they can gather was that a now dead Exemplar requested it and assured that it would be useful."The only thing that can come of that is chaos."

"You said it yourself we need warriors and this will give us that."

"They are not advanced enough to fight them. They will get slaughtered."

"This exchange might give us trillions of soldiers and thousands of ships! When they arrive we will share with them our technology. With Sanctum leadership we can emerge victorious!"

"Even if we somehow defeat the Daleks what then? We have three angry galaxies now possessing Type 4 technology. We are gods to them what will they feel when we are throwing them into war?"

Thraxen stood up, "Ti's better to fight and sacrifice rather then lay down and burn. If we do not do this, the Daleks will blow threw us and the trillions of lives that could have been saved are now in jeopardy. Confused and with no way to get support from the other dimensions the population will decline and eventually perish. Unite them all under a single banner with leaders that know the enemy, and they may stand a chance.

Shielion, her skepticism faltering said, "And what of the Exemplars what role do they play?"

"The the Exemplars are open to drastic measures, if they agree the council will follow and differ to their judgement."

"I suppose it's the only way..." Shielion finally conceded.

"A risky endeavor to be sure." A familiar voice emerged behind them. The duo turned around to see R'koan an elderly Xel'naga councilor.

"R'koan good friend, always a pleasure." Thraxen welcomed.

The pleasure is all mine I assure you." R'koan mentally smiled.

"What brings you here?" Shielion inquired.

"I over heard your plan, and have come to offer my support."

"Oh?" Thraxen did not expect this.

"Yes, pooling all our resources is the only way can have a chance of safeguarding Sanctum. The knowledge stored here will give even the revered Timelords pause. And besides, you will need supporters outside the Exemplars, in the council at least to convince them that this is the best course of action.

"R'koan old friend you never failed to disappoint."

R'koan chuckled to himself, "Of course we need to find a way to appease the Exemplars to have them attend."

"I have that covered, you see the Exemplar Primus owes me a favor."

Shielion gasped, "What could you possibly have done to attain such a privilege?"

"I granted the Primus, Xel'naga resources in a... time of crisis. It's classified."

"Well then." R'koan said. " I believe we have everything we need I will see the both of you in the summit then?"

"We will be there, and we will shake the very foundations of the universe."

**Well that's a good size, I think. Tell me what you think in the reviews! Should I make the chapters even longer(Probably even I think it is pathetic)? What do you think of Thraxen? How do you like my idea so far? I wanted to touch more of the mysterious god-like beings in this story and not so much on the regular things like the 3 Human races, the Citadel, Covenant ****Separatists, Protoss, Zerg etc. There never was much of a back story. But they will come soon! Anyway, cookies for all the reviewers!**


	3. Call to Arms

**Okay, while I'm writing this I currently have four reviews, which is great! But please, if your reading drop a comment, any criticism is appreciated. Like it? Hate it? Tell me in the reviews! I'm a writer I can take it.**

**Call To Arms**

Thraxen spent every waking moment preparing for the upcoming summit. He invited the Exemplars, gathered his allies, and prepared himself mentally. This was it, the conference that will decide the best course of action against the Dalek threat. Earlier this cycle, he presented his case the the Xel'naga Principality Board on Kleron. After much debate and discussion by the Xel'naga Premiers, the impasse was broken by the final vote, the majority went to the supporters of the merge. Soon directly after, the Xel'naga Grand Chancellor himself approved the act and it was imposed upon the remaining Xel'naga councilors to support the plan. Thraxen smiled to himself, he only needed to convince the other Sanctum councilors to rally by his side.

As Thraxen walked through the vast halls of the Sanctum capital, he wondered about their own combat capability. The Precursors provided most of the ships with their mastery of Neural Physics. Their cruisers and capital ships were built like mighty fortresses who carry some of the most powerful weapons ever conceived. They have created a controversial kinetic force application cannon that is capable of launching 60,000 ton metal projectiles at ninety-nine percent the speed of light. Capable of being effective at any range, this capital ship standard has targeting systems honed from billions of years of refinements, allowing the slug to be guided across all the planets in the system before finally collapsing in the systems star, which sub-sequentially implodes on itself. A less potent Precursor weapon is the Gravity Well. It uses the force of gravity and intensifies it on the target area. Designed mostly for bombardment, it can be used to compress a starship to the point of flattening it. All ships carry the Sanctum standard Hyperflux batteries and the heavier, Hyperflux Model 2. The current highest executive official is the Precursor Matriarch, Telias.

The Leviathans in space combat use sealed exoskeletons due to to their immense physiology. This "battle armor" donned the standard Hyperflux models and also carried the substantially more powerful, Ultraflux battery. This weaponry, when complimented by the Leviathans powerful psychic influence, allows them to manipulate their equipment in a way that rivals or even surpasses Xel'naga and Precursor AI's. This did not stop them from developing further technology; they constructed the Leviathan Dominator, a fairly sized vessel that has a crew of ten. It's weapon systems are versatile, allowing them to respond in a plethora of situations that is supplemented by the Leviathans psychic adeptness. Their current highest executive official is the Leviathan Judicator, Girazov

The Xel'naga ships, while not as massive and imposing as the Precursor's or as specialized and fast as the Leviathan's, they had one thing that made them stand out, their durability. With shielding allowing them to survive a singularity, resist a black hole's gravity, or survive a direct hit by a comet with not so much as a scratch, their shields stood as a testament to the Xel'naga's wisdom, willpower, and sublime technological superiority. Additionally, Xel'naga vessels have enormous hanger bays letting the command ship to hide behind a swarm of fighters and interceptors. Their already formidable defenses are strengthened with the use of a variety of countermeasures which vary in function, from reflecting laser-based batteries, detonating incoming missiles before they impact, super-cooling thermal artillery, hacking attempts, and deploying time mines that substantially increases the age of any non-friendly matierial within its proximity by trillions of years. The current highest executive official is the Grand Chancellor, Lurrek

Thraxen thought as he reached the conference hall, _The soldiers of the galaxy will have better use of this technology then we can ever field. The proud warriors of Sanghelios, the mighty Templar of Aiur, the sword and shield of __Palaven, the Humans... Thraxen always found the Humans to be a curious race. One that rose above and beyond through the veil of insurmountable odds and prevailed nevertheless. "_They will be a valuable asset", Thraxen said mostly to himself.

Thraxen entered the impressive conference hall, walking under the swooping arches. He took note of the somber and expressionless looks set on some of the councilors faces. His foot steps suddenly became heavier as he approached his seat on the councilors balcony. His seat was complex and ornate, swathed in ancient hieroglyphs of historic mystery. He sat and looked at the Exemplars, their expressions dry as a bone. The summit soon began as the remaining dignitaries arrived.

"Glorious Sanctum council", the speaker started. "First and foremost, the council courteously welcomes the presence of the wise Exemplars. Their counsel as per requested by the Xel'Naga Board of Principalities. Continuing on, the council seeks a solution to a threat that has been made against Sanctum." The speaker's speech soon darkened,"The near incursion of the Daleks." Thraxen took his cue.

"On behalf of the Xel'Naga principality board and holding the authority of our Grand Chancellor Lurrek honored be thy name, we hereby propose to the Sanctum council, a potential solution!"

The speaker turned to him skeptically, "This council recognizes the Xel'Naga plea, proceed as you will."

Threaten stood confidently, "I propose to the Sanctum, the complete merging of the Milky Way galaxy."

Those words evoked outrage. Councilors argued amongst each other, most ridiculing the idea; in his own seat R'koan cringed and sighed. The Exemplars however remained calm, yet... interested. The auditorium was in chaos."Please hold your objections!" the speaker spoke frantically.

"We also propose the distribution of all our technology with the primitives" Another Xel'Naga councilor said worriedly.

"Ludicrous!"

"Madness!"

"Outrageous!"

Again, the situation began to sour and Thraxen began to worry. If this didn't improve soon, Exemplar support or not, he could not see getting through to the councilors.

"Statement!" was yelled and the council turned its attention to the Precursor balcony. Thraxen was curious, he knew that voice. And when a council pod moved forward, he can see it was non other Shielion presenting herself. Shielion was a reclusive councilor, usually only participating in votes and the like, Thraxen had never seen this from her.

"Proceed." said the speaker.

Shielion nodded to him, "Noble councilors, long has it been since we sat together and worked toward the betterment of the universe. Now,_ **they **_are alive again. If we are to have a fleeting chance of survival we must consider the most radical of solutions. If it means standing with our brothers and sisters, our... family, along the children we so swore to protect then so be it." Shielion paused, and gazed out towards the vast council before her and continued,"When we forged this Sanctum we chose to uphold an oath, a promise of guidance and honesty, of courage and willpower, to protect the meek and raise the wings of our species when the Winds call us to flight. In the face of death and threat of extinction, we spat at the muddied ground and forgot the judgement of the past. WE ROSE THEN!" Shielion yelled with all the strength she could muster. "We, all of us have faced death and stomped at the ground in which we fell, in valiance; And we flew together, do not forget that time when facing death once more." Shielion gingerly withdrew her seat. Thraxen's resolve faltered for a flicker, but he knew that Shielion would always be an outstanding diplomat.

"Clearly we mustn't spread dissent in haste." Proximius noted, still reeling. "However the fact of the matter still stands, you wish to allocate Type 4 technology to those with the likes of the Queen of Blades. Why is that Thraxen?

Thraxen steeled himself and responded to the Precursor immediately, " The Queen of Blades has changed, she is no longer as ruthless as before. Due to the Vernal artifact restoring her humanity."

Proximus eyed him suspiciously before saying, "Allow me to rephrase, you wish to simply give our technology to... humans?"

Thraxen flinched at that, "The Humans have proven themselves through trials of fire. They cannot be discounted, even if their meritocracy is not as refined as Asari per say. They have lost and sacrificed and still they defended their home to the bitter end, rising past insurmountable odds in the face of evil and injustice emerging triumphant.

A different Precursor spoke up, " So what if we agree, can we not just choose those we know whose intentions are pure?"

"Take the heroes and the villains will rise, this is the only way without disrupting the balance of the homes those heroes left to fight for." R'Koan added.

Toranor scoffed at that,"The sheer profoundness of the act, we are gods in their mind, why ask for assistance?

"Do not grow too complacent." R'Koan said warningly." You and I both know that your bluster won't produce the millions of soldiers we need to engage in conflict." Toranor glared at the Xel'Naga but said nothing.

Thraxen interjected, "We all our capable of malicious acts, as with the Humans. What makes us sentient is the capacity for change, for the better... or for worse in cases such as that of Amon." Thraxen saddened at that, the exile of the fallen Xel'Naga was necessary. He was a brilliant aristocrat, putting others before himself, working towards the greater good. He was young when is mind was deluded by evil. He corrupted the Zerg so that the Xel'Naga may take our place as the universes true ruler by overwhelming our enemies. We didn't leave the Protoss because they annoyed us, we wanted to save them from ourselves. Since his exile he has sworn to take revenge on his species, to create the universe in his image. Even today the ghosts of the past still haunt the present.

"Perhaps," Solvein, a Xel'Naga suggested. "Exemplars we seek your input, share with us your wisdom."

The council became silent and turned toward the levitating group that had said nothing so far.

Finally, the Primus spoke with a old and inspiring voice, his words carrying the incredible power and volume as befit of a billion year old being, "There is something..."

"Tell us wise one, what is it that we must do." the speaker spoke tentatively.

"We sense something... a signature we have not seen in thousands of years." The Primus spoke cryptically.

A foreboding feeling washed over Thraxen; "I have a very unfavorable premonition about this." Thraxen turned toward his friend R'koan. The other councilors were also whispering in confusion. In the Leviathan balcony, something was stirring their psychic minds as was with the Precursors. "_Something is happening"_ Shielion thought; She unconsciously raised her guard.

The entire council froze as a presence presented itself in their minds. It was ancient, powerful, familiar... The speaker visibly tensed and muttered to the sentries behind him,"Elevate threat level, ensure that the para-universal barriers are functional." Just as he had said that a blinding light enveloped the room, before dissipating as quickly as it arrived.

"HE'S GONE!" The council gasped and looked toward the Exemplars. Thraxen could not fathom the horror he just witnessed, the Primus is gone!

"Impossible!" called out Myrael. "He can't have just vanished!"

"Can it be the Daleks?" A councilor exclaimed.

"We can't know for certain." The speaker addressed.

"Someone find~~." The councilor never finished as he was inturrupted by loud swishing sound, it sounded of groaning of machinery when put under stress. Thraxen looked to the center of the conference to see a box-like object materialize there. Its blue doors opened to reveal a tan humanoid with a bright red cylinder sitting atop its head. For a while the council just stared...

Cheerily, as if casually greeting someone the tan being said, "Hello then, I'm The Doctor!"

In a welcoming response one appropriate for calm and level-headed diplomats, the councilors balconies shielded, fifty or so Sanctum guardsmen were teleported in, and every conceivable Sanctum weapon, capable of being carried by a person was pointed at the alien.

"A Human! Do my eyes deceive me?" Myrael yelled, seemingly startling the Human. The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and performed a quick bio-scan of the conference.

"Sonic probe!" one of the guards yelled, as he tried to make a grab the device. The Doctor however side-steeped to his right while still scrutinizing his sonic.

"Really!" The Doctor muttered to himself, putting the sonic in his coat. "That can't be right; That can't be possible." He turned towards the guardsmen and pointed at him dramatically, "You should be extinct!" Behind him the Doctor's time machine, the TARDIS, was psychically levitated to a Leviathan Exemplar.

"HEY, I need that!" The Doctor yelled to the large creature.

The Leviathan however ignored him and seemed to be deep in thought, he telekinetically widened its doors and seemed surprised for a brief second. "A TARDIS? And its alive!" The Leviathan marveled. He set the blue phone box down and faced The Doctor, "That of course is preposterous for a human... unless **you** are something more."

"A Time Lord," A Precursor Exemplar surmised. "I should have known, how did you even find this place, for I cannot see into your mind."

The Doctor thought to himself before saying,"I was re-attaching the hand-brake in deep space when something took hold of my pho... err TARDIS. I found myself heading to this place unable to change course or even have any input!" Thraxen did not expect this from a species that demands respect. He found himself contemplating whether or not this "Doctor" was yelling at a box.

The Exemplar looked toward the speaker after hearing that. Sighing, he told the guards to stand down.

"But sir~."

"That's an order!" The speaker said firmly.

"Yes...sir." His subordinate mumbled reluctantly, as he and the rest of the guard lowered their myriad of weaponry.

"Perhaps that space-time fluctuation was the same force causing the disappearance of the Primus," A Xel'Naga councilor suggested.

"It could be the Daleks attempting to enter this universe." Proximius spoke.

With the mention of his archenemy The Doctor paled. "The Daleks? Here?"

"Of course you would know, but we are not the primitive children the Time Lords met long ago, we know war." The Exemplar who spoke earlier said.

"You can't fight the Daleks conventionally!" The Doctor shook his head in denial.

"We can try, our technology rivals theirs." Thraxen spoke up.

"But you were~." The Doctor began.

"Fighting extinction ourselves," Thraxen interrupted. "With the loss of the Primus I fear that same reckoning approaches ever closer."

The Exemplars nodded in agreement,"Let us hope that your efforts with this plan, be vindicated"

Tonraque ,a Precursor, lurched forward at that, "Exemplars! You aren't actually considering that we bring the galaxies into this!"

"I believe we can all agree that we are in need of soldiers and that it would be for the best that we seek advice from this... Doctor." The Exemplar, seeing the curious look on The Doctor's face transmitted the plan to him via psychic link.

The Doctor's eyes widened in horror, "Is that all it takes? Throwing lifeforms that have little association with you into a conflict they don't deserve to be in! There must be another solution!

The Exemplar looked at the Time Lord sadly, he remembered the battle for Gallifrey, how it fell in fire. "We have not time, the Daleks are nearly here. If we fight them alone they will defeat us, then they will exterminate every life form in the galaxy and its copies. They will cripple their militaries, their scientists completely unaware of the enemy prior to the invasion and have no way contacting the other galaxy copies." The Exemplar closed his eyes in sorrow, "They will die while we burn in Sanctum."

"There must be something I can do." The Doctor hesitated.

"You need not fight with us." The Exemplar assured him."But your guidance may decide our failure or victory."

It ached the Doctor to see more violence, to see more worlds burn under the Daleks. He mourned Gallifrey, but now he was angry; angry at the Daleks for invading his home, angry at the Gallifrey High Council for allowing their home to be lost. Above all, he was angry at himself for letting that happen. He won't let it happen again!

He looked up at the Exemplars and toward the council and spoke with a grief-stricken intensity,"I will only advise you, however you can't just collapse the barriers; panic will ensue."

"I suppose we can just transport the inhabitants to Sanctum, we can construct worlds for them to inhabit." Thraxen recommended.

"I suppose that is the best course of action." An Exemplar replied. "There is still the matter of the council's approval..."

The Speaker took his cue,"The Xel'Naga Plea has been heard, does the rest of the council consent?" The council discussed to their respective species. "We await your final decision."

"Aye!" Yelled the Precursor councilors.

"Aye!" The Leviathans followed.

"The vote has been cast, the Sanctum will pledge their support to the Xel'Naga plea. Does the Xel'Naga wish to add any further statements?" The speaker inquired.

"A request, speaker."

"How does thou wish to proceed?"

"A message to the Daleks." The Doctor winced upon hearing that. Thraxen detached his seat and moved it forward.

"Proceed with thine message"

Thraxen waited as he was recorded,"Daleks of Skaro I address you on behalf of Sanctum and the Milky Way Galaxy. You deliver your mantra of annihilation to us expecting our submission. Know this we stand unyielding, heads unbowed. And while in the conflict yet to pass, our hands will be bloodied, our armor tattered; we will fight and defend until the final tenacious soldier utters his final curse. Know that with every one of our brethren you slay, our resolve grows ever stronger. And know that your victory will not be easy to attain, attack us and you stand before the complete judgement of the Sanctum. And finally, most importantly, know that you will bear witness to the monument of your sins, the wrath of the galaxies's champions.

**There 3,000 words, I really tried my best with The Doctors entry. I still need your input so review the heck out of that review button! And tell me which races's perspective you want me to capture once they initiate the merge. Also, I think i'll stick with this size. Tell me what you think of the Exemplars too(Just so you know they are nameless, but their names are stored inside the Sanctum archives)!**


	4. The Merge

**Hi there! I wrote on the Forerunner's perspective for the merge. Did you know that you can review, even if you don't have an account?! (hint-hint, wink-wink,-nudge-nudge) And to Dragonaut344Doomed, I understand your concern, I believe I have found a solution! You gave me the idea by saying the word, "****monitor." ****Inevitably, there will be unpleasant people that will get their hands on the tech, but I think I can use that as a plot device. I am also thinking of making a new story of what happened to the Primus, or I could just include it here. He IS the Primus of the Exemplars, that is just screaming Mary Sue. Let me know what you think. Now then, GERONIMO!**

**_"_**Conference adjourned," the speaker announced.

Thraxen relaxed, it worked, the plea was accepted. This was however, not a seamless victory, the Primus vanished because of the Daleks attempting to get in and a Time Lord was practically dropped on their lap! The shock hasn't completely worn off yet. He needed to know when they will be attacked, Sanctum forcefields can only hold them off for so long. Sanctum wasn't a planet however, neither is it a system or a galaxy. It can best be described as an artificial, pseudo universe that was figuratively, built on top of the main universe. Where he is now is known as the Sanctum Capital, a massive construct erected right in the very center of Sanctum, give or take fifty feet.

Thraxen exited the hall and was stopped by none other than Shielion, the Precursor councilor who was not much younger than himself. "Shielion! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hello, Thraxen." She replied with a strained smile.

They began walking together, "You seem troubled? Is something the matter?"

"It- it's just..." Shielion stuttered.

"Shielion, do you need a moment?"

"No...no, we lost the Primus, Thraxen. When I went to the summit, I believed that I would be inspired, empowered to work for a cause, but when the Primus disappeared they..."

"Continue."

"A beacon of hope became a beacon of doubt. We just lost our best leadership, how will we stand a chance?"

Thraxen motioned for her to sit down on a rock in the Gardens, "I see, is this the only thing that has been bothering you?"

"No," Shielion said uncertainly. "If this war does not end in our favor, or- I mean, if it ends at all, I fear not seeing those I have befriended at its conclusion."

"It is why we must remain strong, for the people we care for." Thraxen stared thoughtfully into the green expanse.

"Even you aren't invincible Thraxen, if you were lost then..." Shielion tried to find the words, "No, I cannot carry on without your guidance."

"Why ever not? I knew from the day our paths crossed that you are very capable. If you did not calm the council with your words like you did, the outcome of this summit will have, most likely, been rather different."

"I know but~"

"Shielion, you will always be my faithful student and most trusted friend, no planet, galaxy, or Dalek will get in the way of that, I assure you."

Shielion could feel tears stinging at her eyes, discipline and conformity rose to fight it. Thraxen sympathetically embraced her.

"T-thank you, I... thank you."

"Do not thank me yet, for we have a universe to save." And with that he was gone, teleporting across the capitol. Leaving Shielion to her thoughts.

* * *

Thraxen re-appeared in front of a set of silver doors. They opened to reveal a Leviathan attendant conveniently shrunken down to fit in the small corridor. The attendant motioned for the councilor inside, sealing the doors behind them.

"I heard about the Primus; that's a terrible pity." The Leviathan said.

"All hope hasn't been lost, we can still find solace in our own spirit and leadership. Is the merging sequence nearly ready?" Thraxen asked as they walked along. The attendant lead him to another set of silver doors and entered. Inside was a simple room with a control terminal of sorts. Above it, is a window that led to a reverberating portal.

"It is. You must know once it is activated, it will take time for the realities to lock. It will also take time to transport the incredible amount of matter to be taken to Sanctum."

"Understandable." Thraxen said. "Heh, this took weeks of planning and approval and all I have to do is press a button?"

"It is a lever." The attendant said matter-of-factly. Thraxen waved him off as the Leviathan left. Alone now, Thraxen stared at the portal. He wondered how the council was able to ready the merging apparatus so quickly. Supposedly, the system was implemented during the Sanctum's construction. It was apparently requested by a now dead Exemplar. It was the same one that proposed the prospect of merging the galaxies in the first place, should it be needed. Thraxen found that curious, we were given near perfect circumstances to merge the galaxies by the same Exemplar.

Thraxen also thought about the races he was going to attempt to unite. What if he fails? How many lives are going to be ruined with this decision. His decision. How many families is he going to tear apart to help win this war? He thought about the now human-controlled Reapers. The sentient synthetics that brought wrath upon the galaxy every 50,000 years while Sanctum watched. It wasn't our fault, we were still recovering from the losses of the past. The Reapers are entire civilizations harvested and stored in Reaper form. Is he really going to sacrifice virtually entire species, to give us time to regroup? He thought about the Sangheili and the Humans they partnered with. They are rebuilding, they don't want more war to remind them that old wounds still fester. He thought about the race that inherited the Xel'Naga language, the Protoss. It hurt him deeply to know that our first-born lost their home-world. That they were nearly driven to extinction. The other Sanctum races thought them as weak and fickle for letting pride blind them when the corrupt Zerg gnawed at their footsteps. The Xel'Naga however howled in pain, as billions of Protoss minds screamed as they entered the Khala. If he was Precursor, Thraxen would have demanded that the Mantle of Responsibility be imparted to the Protoss. He however was not, and it deeply saddened him to wither such a scarred race, instead of giving them the respect and honor they so dearly deserve. He couldn't stand conflicted now, the galaxy must stand together, for their most glorious and perhaps their final trial. So he stood straight and made the most difficult decision in his multi-thousand year life. He pulled a lever.

* * *

_(Far into the Milky Way galactic rim)  
(Installation 0)  
(12 hours until merging)_

The Greater Ark. Inside this forgotten installation is a single synthetic stalking its hallways. This synthetic did not cast off an alarming presence; no, the Sentinels, Forerunner security drones that were created to safeguard their various installations, merely whizzed past it, conducting maintenance to the decrepit construct. The Forerunner ancilla had a glowing white "eye". Its name was 915 Empirical Compromise, monitor of Installation 0. It whirled around the enormous construct, one that it sought to bring out of disrepair after the defeat at the hands of the despicable parasite, in the fleeting, final days of the Forerunner-Flood war. The incident was catastrophic, thousands of lives were lost. It brought about the destruction of the Omega Halo. Only the Librarian, Iso-Didact, Ur-Didact, and the fellow A.I 343 Guilty Spark was able to escape, when the Master Builder and multiple other Forerunners, could not. Compromise managed to salvage what was left of the station after the Flood evacuated the area around the structure. The damage was almost irreparable if it wasn't for a few surviving Sentinels that Compromise managed to reconfigure to repair and maintain the collapsing installation. The code to construct new Halos was taken by the Librarian for security reasons.

"Oh, what's this?" Compromise detected a energy pulse that coursed through the Ark. "It can't be them, they're dead." The pulse resembled that of the of the Precursors, albeit faint. Compromise wasn't one to take chances however. He hastily scanned the immediate area. Nothing. The A.I was relieved, but puzzled. He alerted the Sentinels and they filed out of their tubes armed and unwavering. Compromise scanned again, this time ten light years out from his origin. Again, there were no Precursor vessels or any Flood capable of fielding such technology. Compromise scanned further, one-hundred light years, a thousand, ten-thousand, and again the result was the same. Compromise tapped into the Ark's broadcast system and scanned the entire galaxy for anything resembling Precursors or their technology. The outcome was the same, the scans yielded no results. "Perhaps, it is all in my head," the ancilla chided himself. The Forerunner mastery over artificial intelligence was so advanced, that ancillas never had to worry about rampancy. "All these years, to think i'm going mad," Empiricle hummed to himself.

He was about to issue an official false alarm, when another pulse hit him. This time the energy was nearly thrice as intense. The Precursor signature was more distinct, more obvious. Empirical can better examine it now. He noticed, that the Precursor signature was unlike that he encountered before. The signal was dispersed in a way that was vastly different than when his creators hunted them down to nigh extinction. The Precursor signature was altered, it was not the corrupt and distorted signature that the Primordial often emitted. It was elegant and refined, a specific set information converted into energy that was being projected outward. The source was unknown, it seemed to have come from everywhere. There were two alien signals that accompanied it, the three signatures crossed and expanded into a third wave.

Deciding this as a reasonable cause for alarm, Compromise broadcasted a reply signal. It was the Forerunner emergency attenuation signal. It warned foreign intruders to stay away and that the inhabitants of this galaxy is armed and unafraid of pursuing conflict. Of course, they are not really ready for battle, the Forerunners are extinct, most of the Halos were destroyed, and the Reclaimers devolved. Even when his creators were at their height, the only reason they reigned victorious agains the Precursors, was because they simply allowed themselves to be defeated. Aggressive or not, if it really is the Precursors and some unknown thrall of allies, and they wish to do battle, we're doomed.

Compromise began pacing in the air now. If we can convince the Precursors that the Forerunners are still alive, that may be enough to stave off any sort of attack. "Maybe, they are friendly," Compromise hoped. The situation became bleaker and bleaker. Compromise was running out of ideas, "I could reach out to the Reclaimers. No... no...no."

Compromise did not care if he was permanently deactivated. Well... he did care care a little bit. But, his priority was to preserve life, not leave it in darkness. If computers panicked this would be it. Compromise had no immediate solution, no one to turn to, or even any sense to what the pulse really means. He didn't even have another monitor to confide in!"No.. no.. no.. no.. no!" Empirical's mind began to run frantically attempting to search for a solution in his logic processors. He thought of trying to contact the other monitors, opening a dialogue with the Precursors, making more Halo rings for whatever good that will do. Offensive Bias, his predecessor, might have a solution, but he was decommissioned after the Medicant debacle was sorted out. "Oh it's hopeless," Empirical submitted. "The best we can do is put up as much resistance as we can. Only to have them blast us with another Star Road."

Compromise was just about ready to begin preparations for mounting a defense, when a blinding violet glow enveloped him...

* * *

Thraxen was sitting at the Ministry of Military operations. The one overseeing the project is Fleet Executive Qou'Knan, a Precursor and Sanctum's best admiral. He sat with ministry chairpersons, all excellent combat tacticians. Normally, official military meetings were withheld unless directly threatened. With the near transport of millions of alien ships, the Council saw fit to begin military operations. Among, the chair people are councilors, Shielion and Nai'Sel, the latter being Leviathan.

"Listen up!" Qou'Knan yelled authoritatively. The Ministry turned to face him.

"Our guests will arrive within the hour. Let's recap on how we will... welcome them."

Admiral Salure spoke up,"Their weapon systems will be disabled while we open a live broadcast through every visual and auditory medium they have."

"Excellent, and after that, the councilors will meet with their leaders, to discuss action against the Daleks." Qou'Knan said.

"Where will we put their planets?" Nai'Sel asked.

"We will put them in orbit inside an artificial galaxy, tailor made to house them." Thraxen added.

"We do not have much time to go over the fine details, they are nearly here." The Fleet Executive said. "Any convoluted strategy will have to wait until after the proceedings."

Thraxen had to mask his skepticism."Very well, just be friendly, we can't afford to be cynical and have them believe that we have hostile intentions."

"Of course, councilor."

"The merge is starting, admirals." A fleet officer stated.

"Well then," The Fleet Executive began, "Let it begin."

* * *

James Raynor awoke with a violent jolt, canteen in hand. "It's too damn early." He muttered to himself. He walked over to the elevator and rode up to the bridge. Truth is, he wasn't feeling any better when Amon was defeated. It was just too ordinary for lack of a better term. There was the battle. He could remember it, the stench of blood mingling with the cries of his own marines. The sweat on his brow as he pulled a hydralisk out of a fire. Jim grinned to himself, he never thought that he would ever do such a thing. Must be getting old he guessed. He remembered Artanis, the Protoss Hierarch, shout Khalani curses as the Shield of Aiur sacrificed itself to ignite a massive hybrid advance. The crew, which Artanis knew intimately, was the first of many casualties. After that, Artanis practically erupted with anger and you can see the Void and Khala energies blast forth from his hands. He's slain an entire Brutalisk by summoning an enormous psionic storm. Next to him, was Sarah Kerrigan looking bruised and tired from the constant psychic strain, but there was a fire in her eyes. One that he hasn't seen since they first met. The aspiring young red-headed ghost has returned and itching to kick Amon's rear end all the way back to whatever black hole he clawed his way out of. So there they were, the three of them leading the final disparate squadrons and ships into the heart of Amon's fortress. And... they had won. And after every drop of blood spilled to get to that point, it didn't take a telepath to know what they were thinking. It was worth it. But was it really? Jim felt like this isn't over, that he could have lost and mourned more. Call it a gut feeling.

Raynor was aboard the Bridge now, and he saw Matthew Horner, his captain, standing rigid and issuing orders to the command staff. There was a bedraggled look on his face as he looked beyond the glass. "Something wrong, Matt?" Raynor said as he walked up to him.

Horner nodded to him, "It's strange sir, the readings are saying that we are going hundreds of lightyears per second." He saw the confused look beginning to form on the commander's face. Warp travel is fast, but not THAT fast.

"That ain't possible is it? Not even Protoss can go that fast." Raynor said.

"That's just it sir, the engines are not online." Matt said.

"You mean to tell me that, we are gunning it across space, for no reason." Raynor responded disbelievingly.

Matt shook his head. "About right. We double checked and triple checked, thrusters are definitely not on. The only explanation that I can think of is that, someone or something is doing this externally."

"Externally eh," Raynor put his hand on his beard. "Have you tried stopping it?"

"I've tried diverting our course, no luck. Comms are down too. Whatever this is, it wants us somewhere and wants us badly." Matt said.

"Sounds perfect." Raynor said.

The helmsman called out to them, "Sirs, we're slowing down."

James looked toward the glass and saw the dense whiteness fade. What he saw next was completely unbelievable. He found himself only able to say three words. "What the hell?" The bridge gasped in disbelief and fear as they saw hundreds, no, thousands of unknown ships.

"Tal'Darim presence confirmed!" He heard a bridge officer say.

"Multiple unknown contacts!" He heard another say.

"Weapon systems disengaged!"

"Detecting Zerg bio-signatures."

"Detecting Dominion, Kel-Morian, and Umojan battlecruisers, sir."

Before Raynor or Horner could say anything, every screen on the bridge warped and changed to show an alien face on the screen.

"Greetings proud citizens of the Milky Way," it said. _It looked oddly similar to Protoss_, Raynor thought as it spoke. "I am councilor Thraxen and we have gathered you and your armies here for a very dire and momentous occasion. Your worlds have been threatened countless times and as selfish as it may be for us to not come to your aid, we need your help. Your peace has again been threatened by a adversary, far more powerful then any of you have faced. While it may seem that we are throwing you into conflict, when you wish to rebuild. For that, I offer my most sincerest consolations. But none can face this foe alone, not even us. We wish for you to send those who you choose to represent your governments, in a diplomatic summit. There is where wish to come to an understanding. Finally, some of you may recognize me, we compose of three species, The Precursors, Leviathans, and my own race,..." _That's it! Raynor knew what he was, he's seen him before. "... a Xel'Naga. We are Sanctum."_

**This was a difficult chapter to write. I do hope you like it however. I planned on killing off Selendis instead of the Shield, but I have a rather humorous role for her in the future. Well, tell me how it is, and tell me what you expect to see in later chapters. Also i'd like ideas on which franchise to put the Primus in for a separate story. **


	5. The Diplomats

**I'm baaaack! I got sick, traveled to another country, fell out of writing for a while, and ... and...*shrinks under your unforgiving gaze*... sorry. I'm here now though! This story won't die on my watch. Also, I envisioned Sanctum capital to look like Ratchet and Clank's Great Clock. Of which I do not own! I digress, GERONIMO!**

Thraxen wasn't surprised to find that his political confidants to be incredibly silent. _What could be going on in their heads_, he wondered. He couldn't probe in their minds, as each of them has a mental barrier to protect against psychic intrusions. It is especially useful against the mind-control effects the Leviathans employ.

He stole a glance at the monitor that showed that massive fleet in its entirety, literally billions of vessels in the space around the capital. The sight was breathtaking. He could feel the millions of active minds aboard the myriad of metal boxes. All of them were clamoring for an explanation. One after another, they were desperately attempting to contact their allies on their own planets only to uncover a surprising development.

Thraxen sat still with his wordless companions and waited in painful silence.

* * *

..._We are Sanctum". _

_"_Unbelievable," Irissa whispered in exasperation.

The Asari councilor put her hand on her brow in complete bewilderment. Some hours ago, the entire Citadel disappeared from its original location in the Serpent Nebula. Without any means of communication from outside the Citadel, the Council decided to wait it out while C-SEC attempted to calm the panicked crowds. The message that followed, after they appeared in an entirely different region of space, did little to soothe Irissa's frayed nerves. In a cruel twist of fate, every allied military ship was also teleported here. Except, they all had their weapons disabled.

With the entire population in disarray and hundreds of unknown and seemingly armed ships surrounding them, it was an abrupt change of pace from the era of peace that followed after the Reaper War. With millions dead and billions displaced, the Milky Way was in dire need of recovery. Efforts to healing the wounds left by the Reapers was reduced to a crawl. But with help from previously shunned races, such as the Geth, Quarians, Batarians, and Krogan, they were able to repair some of the damage. Soldiers returned to their families, new cities were constructed upon ashes of the old, and the economy was, once again, stable. The Citadel even granted embassies to the Geth, Quarians, Krogan, Vorcha, and other races. Even the Batarians were granted an embassy, this was made easier when Governor Grothan Pazness took control of the Hegemony and began instituting new policies against slavery. Pazness's involvement in the Reaper War, with his daily Extranet videos, inspired many Batarians to live by honest virtues, such as courage and tolerance. Candidates for the next human councilor were beginning to reveal themselves, flaunting tales of their heroic actions in the Reaper War.

The galaxy moved on in spite of the absurd number of complication. They all rose above their failings in the hopes of becoming something greater. The souls lost during that war, including the Milky Way's hero Commander Jane Shepard, became a painful, but distant memory. The galaxy was at peace, and many were convinced it would stay that way. Some people even disregarded the fact that the Reapers weren't "dead", they simply went away... Still the people were content and the Council moved on to different projects.

Then this happened.

"Well, what do we make of this?" Quentius said.

"They somehow are already capable of speaking our language, so we needn't worry about a communications barrier," Esheel remarked, her curiosity naturally piqued as she is a Salarian.

The trio of councilors glanced at each other for the briefest moment. They began to chuckle, which turned into open laughter.

"We can't catch a break can we?," Quentius said with a toothy grin.

"It appears we cannot," Irissa said with a smirk. The camaraderie lifted the tension ever so slightly. "In all seriousness," Irissa began as she recomposed herself, wearing a mask of stern professionalism which was mirrored by the other councilors. "They do not seem to harbor any hostile intentions," Irissa stated firmly.

"Except of course, disabling all of our weapons," Quentius responded, annoyance at the situation seeping into his voice.

"That may just be a precaution to avoid any accidents. Or, a catastrophic naval war." Esheel added

"I suppose," Quentius agreed. "They still didn't welcome us very solicitously."

"We can find out for ourselves." Irissa had to admit that she was curious.

"Ah yes! They wanted to arrange a diplomatic summit," Esheel remembered.

"If we are to attend, then we can agree that we bring a substantial guard. Even if they extend hand of piece, they are obviously very powerful. We should take precautions," Quentius warned.

"Seems reasonable," Irissa responded. "All for attending the summit?"

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Very well then, let's get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Thel 'Vadam boarded his personal golden Lich. He was flanked by the Sangheili Honor Guard, as well as a pair of elite Mgalekgolo. He passed by the scuffling Unngoy and avian T'Voaon/Kig-Yar mercenaries and ascended the stairs. He walked his armored form to the cockpit.

The Sangheili pilot gave a courteous salute, "All systems checked and ready. When you give the command, we shall depart to the coordinates the Precursors sent."

"Excellent friend," The Arbiter began. "We should leave at once."

"Of course, brother." The pilot took his place at the flight console and began preliminary flight re-checks. "Fuel one-hundred percent, shields at maximum, weapon systems disabled, ammunition stocked and ready, all troopers on board. Beginning ignition. Lift boosters at seventy percent intensity."

Thel stood nearby apprehensively; he could hear the long whine of his craft as its thrusters began to carry it out of the hanger. He saw the forcefield that separated the metal fortress from the airless void. Although he did not see them, he knew that several Phantom gunboats tailed him as he left the Archetype of Chivalrous Gratuity. The craft was fairly new, but it was magnificent. The largest Sangheili vessel to date was a culmination of the peace and cooperation between his kind and the humans he fought alongside. It draws a striking similarity to High Charity, the former holy capitol of the Covenant, especially it's size and hull design. Not only is it tougher, but it's systems were handsomely improved compared to the old capital city. Without the added benefit of the Forerunner Keyship, Gratuity was without a sufficient power source. The UNSC, with it's higher understanding of energy transference, installed a prototype, self-repairing Hyper Core Reactor. Monitored by an advanced "Smart Artificial Intelligence", the magnet-based core served it's purpose. Decrypted Forerunner technology and newly discovered Sangheili plasma conduits were integrated into the reactor, doubling it's energy output.

As the rebuilding efforts continued, Balaho and Te, the Grunt and Hunter home worlds, joined the Sangheili-Human alliance. The Jackals and their Skirmisher cousins were again enlisted as a client race for the alliance. The two avian-like species also allied themselves with private mercenary groups and security agencies. The drone Yanme'e have all fallen back to Palamok to serve their Queens, free of the Prophets lies and oppression. Diplomatic expeditions to Palamok were met with understandable tension. The drone monarchs displayed a surprising level of understanding in politics and commerce. Trade was established, and the Yanme'e introduced rather sweet jellies and honey to the galaxy. It was considered a healthy delicacy on many Human, Unngoy, and Sangheili worlds. In exchange, the Queens requested ore and minerals, as raw materials were embedded deep in Palamok's mantle and were difficult to attain. The Queens however, politely declined the offer to join the Orion Group, the name that was given to the union between Balaho, Te, Earth, and Sanghelios, most likely because of elevated caution due their last experience in joining a multi-species coalition.

The Jiralhanae or "Brutes" as some refer to them, fiercely clung to the old ideas of the Covenant. Some joined Jul'Mdama's Covenant Loyalists, while others still skirmish with the Orion Group regularly. The official governing body in Dosiac, their home world, was plunged into disarray due to the lack of San'Shyuum leadership. Even still, they managed to hold themselves together long enough to agree to an armistice. Though many still despised Humans and Sangheili with a passion, the home world Jiralhanae remained quiet and isolated from the rest of the galaxy. Despite the Brutes, the galaxy maintained a beautiful era of peace and general prosperity.

Until now, that is.

The Arbiter's stern, amber eyes, with mastered intensity, glared harshly at the blackness of space ahead of him. His mind was focused and alert for whatever threats may befall him or his envoy. The void was illuminated only by the resplendent light being emitted by that immense structure. Ribbons of cerulean energy attached themselves to enormous rings of gold. Enthralling sapphire-like crystals adorned the numerous gilded platforms. Brilliant golden orbs orbited the structure like planetoids; hoops surrounded the radiant spheres, giving them an appearance not dissimilar from ringed moons. They all gleamed with the brilliance of a star, yet did not burn one's eyes to look at.

His eyes wandered away from the construct and saw dull, grey blobs in the distance. He could make out the blocky forms of a friendly ship._ Humans... they seem to be caught in this complication as well, _Arbiter thought to himself.

* * *

The Lich landed indolently on the designated dock. The Phantom escorts landed promptly afterward. Soldiers of various ranks and race, filed out with dignity and precision. The younger guardsmen glanced anxiously at the robed, winged figure standing patiently at the side. A larger cephalopod-like creature floated harmlessly of the ground. And yet, there was a certain "pressure" emanating from the pair. Particularly the levitating creature.

"We have arrived, Arbiter." The pilot stated aloud.

"Exemplary flying, friend," The Arbiter responded as he stood.

"Wait," the pilot started."Take caution, brother. We know not their motives."

Thel pondered his words for a moment, before responding, "I understand, know that I intend end this issue swiftly, and as peacefully as I am able." The Elite leader turned before saying, "Farewell for now, comrade."

* * *

"Move with deliberation, my Queen. I sense a powerful essence from this place."

"I know, Zagara," The Queen of Blades replied, as she addressed her subordinate through telepathy."I sense it too."

The terror of the Koprulu, The slayer of Amon, and the absolute ruler of the Swarm, stepped off of her Overlord and landed on the moist creep below. Eight beings slithered beside her, Hunter Killers... Sarah Kerrigan took in the vast hanger. She could faintly see a Warp Prism and Hercules Dropship landing not too far off. She saw other ships, she couldn't recognize. A few looked like large green beetles. A couple of them looked birdlike with a tandem cockpit. There were several that looked like blocks with twin protrusions under it's bow; she assumed they were guns.

Her eyes fell on a figure studying her. She felt herself well up with rage, painful memories of the war with Amon surfaced in her mind. _A Xel'naga...,_ Kerrigan thought enraged. The Queen did have to admit that this one didn't cast off a feeling of deception, intimidation, and ruthlessness that she found in Amon. Instead, it seemed... peaceful and curious. It seemed unafraid of her appearance or reputation, not because of established courage or valor, but like an innocent child marveling at a peculiar animal or machine for the first time.

"Who are you?," Kerrigan asked blandly. The Xel'Naga seemed startled by her statement, she gazed at her, eyes ablaze with yellow. Rather than simply glowing like a Protoss's eyes, her eyes seemed to emit wisps of yellow smoke which seemed to evaporate before the gas trail became too long.

"I am to escort you to our ambassadors," The Xel'Naga spoke in a delicate and concise manner. She stole a look at the Hunter Killers flanking the Queen. "You may take your escort with you."

Kerrigan thought about trying to read the Xel'Naga's mind, but decided against it. She didn't want to instill hostility; she knew how powerful they were. She simply responded defiantly,"I was going to take them anyway." Whether the Xel'Naga seemed taken aback by this, she did not know.

Kerrigan's guide led her to a wide corridor. Ahead of them was a medium sized gateway with an overhanging arch. She saw a familiar face standing beside it. The blonde man gave her a questioning look.

"Valerian." Kerrigan saw another aid next to the young emperor, this one appeared to belong to a different species. It reminded her of the vicious croco-murker on Zerus.

"You're here, Kerrigan?" Emperor Mengsk declared in mild surprise.

"Any idea what this is about, Princey?"

Valerian winced at the nickname that the Queen of all Zerg has given him."Unfortunately no, I was going to represent the Dominion myself. Not before I contacted the Kel-Morians and Umojans to request permission to represent them too."

"Why would you do that?" Kerrigan said, actually curious.

"It's simpler with that method. I also made brief contact with the Hyperion..."

"Jim's here?" Kerrigan interrupted.

"Yes, but he won't be joining us today." The former Prince looked at the set of doors in front of him. He thought in silence for a while as if expecting something.

"Are you ready?," Valerian asked rhetorically.

"No, but let's get this over with," Kerrigan responded in a mixture of dread and exhaustion.

* * *

Hackett sat down in the modestly decorated conference room, next to the Citadel Council. His features remained calm and serious, but in reality the aged Admiral couldn't be more irked. It was only several hours ago that he was patrolling with the fifth fleet. No longer than that, he suddenly found himself here of all places. What's worse was that, the defense committee selected him to be the representative of all Humanity, merely because he was the closest person available. Even for an experienced veteran like him, a soldier's worst nightmare was playing politics. You would think that, with all the snot-nosed bureaucrats running for Councilman, there would be a more viable option. He didn't like it, but orders are orders and he sure as hell will do his utmost to make sure humanity doesn't suffer another Reaper situation.

He sighed and took a glance at what was supposedly the ambassadors he was to meet with. The three were curious beings, they were busily engaged in quiet conversation. He recognized the shape of the Leviathan from the files he received from High Command, but thought they would be... well... bigger. They are called Leviathans aren't they?

He glanced at the other aliens in the room. One of them had no mouth, it had it's eyes closed seemingly meditating in his heavy armor. He studied the peculiar backplate and broad shoulder pads; Steven wondered what it's function was. Another one of them looked like some big gorilla thing. The ape glaring daggers at the four-jawed one. He also saw a very odd human-ish woman with bony wings. Her form seemed distorted, like it was wearing some sort of natural armor. Her "veins" seemed to glow a bright violet. But by far, one of the strangest looking things was the three other Humans in the room. The Admiral was damn sure that those three were Human. One was a blonde, young-looking guy with velvet robes, a black military dress uniform, and a sword at his waist. The second was a gruff, rugged man wearing a suit and tie, he also seemed to be wearing a trench coat and an officer's cap. He had a stone-cold stare, and a grey comb mustache. The final human was a woman with short, brown hair that fell just above her shoulders. She had a serious expression, the face of a leader. Her features indicated that she was approaching fifty.

Councilor Irissa was the first to speak up, "Should we begin now?"

The Leviathan turned to her and spoke in a shrill, yet melodious voice. "Not just yet, we await one last attendee."

The large, ape-like alien rolled his eyes, "How inconvenient..."

The reptilian-like being next to the Leviathan stated, "She should be arriving now."

As if on cue, the doors opened to reveal a hazy, blue figure. Lithe legs strode up to the board and took a brief look at all the attendants.

"Im-mm- impossible," Quentius gasped.

"It's you," Esheel said in a whisper.

Hackett saw the hologram face toward him and the council. It saluted with perfect posture.

"Reporting for duty, Admiral, sir!," it said.

For the first time in hours, the elderly Admiral managed crook a grin. "Welcome back... Commander Shepard."

The redhead smiled widely, "Good to be back, Hackett."

**So that's it then. I hope to not let the updates be this long. Five months is inexcusable. I'll try to update as quickly as I can. Also, the Croco-Murker that Kerrigan mentions is based on the salt-water crocodile, except with a much shorter snout. Au revoir!**


End file.
